


Vicious And Rotten To The Core!

by SekhmetRising



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series, Sex Pistols | Love Pistols
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SekhmetRising/pseuds/SekhmetRising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly how "vicious" and "rotten" is Asami, anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vicious And Rotten To The Core!

Something was wrong. Even in sleep, Asami could feel it. Before he was fully awake, the gun (a permanent fixture on the nightstand) was in his hand and cocked. Akihito wasn’t in bed, and he could feel the sheet cooling. When did the kid become such a part of his life that he felt it when the boy wasn’t there? It didn’t seem like so very long ago that he couldn’t sleep when the photographer stayed over because it wasn’t routine. He sighed, uncocked the gun but held onto it, just in case. He pulled some pants on and went seeking his lover.

The search didn’t last very long. Staying to the shadows, he found the boy in the open kitchen, focused completely on making food for himself. His eyes were the only thing visible above the counter as it seemed he was assessing the piles of watermelon and… what the hell was that? Canned, smoked oysters. Asami shuddered. He only would eat fresh oysters since gods only knew what else went into those cans. But there his lover was, happy as a… well, a clam, piling the nasty little oceanic bottom feeders to obscene heights on the wedges of melon. Asami was entirely too interested in Takaba’s actions to interrupt him, so he put the gun on the end table and remained as silent as the shadow he was standing in.

Akihito hummed a happy tune as he finished piling oysters on the rest of the melon, and much to Asami’s amazement, the boy took one of the concoctions and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, eyes rolling up into the back of his head. The groan of pleasure torn from the slender throat was almost Asami’s undoing—it was a purely sexual sound—and he had a brief flash of jealousy at not being the cause of it.

“Oh my god, that was good,” Akihito mumbled to himself. “Oooh, but you know what would be even better?”

No, what would be even better, cute boy? he thought. Akihito’s head disappeared; two hands grabbed the plate and disappeared on the other side of the island as well. The refrigerator door opened, and he could hear Akihito half-mumbling to himself. He had to move quietly in order to see his boy sitting on the floor between the island and the fridge, going through the condiments in the door.

“Ah-ha!” he exclaimed and pulled a bottle out.

Asami winced when he saw it was the brand of barbeque sauce Kirishima assured him was Takaba’s favorite. He shut the fridge and shook the bottle a few times to get the sauce at the top. He opened it and was about to squeeze it over the melon/oyster (dare he say) hors d’oeuvre, when Asami softly called his name. Akihito screamed at the unanticipated noise and unintentionally squeezed the sauce bottle as his arms flailed, leaving a thin streak of dark brown splatter up the (formerly) immaculate stainless steel refrigerator. Asami calmly stepped to the side and blobs of brown goo landed on the floor where he’d been standing a heartbeat before.

“You ass!” Akihito yelled, checking to make sure his food was okay.

He stood and put the plate on the island. “What are you doing up?” Frown. “And how long have you been watching me?”

Asami smirked and lit a cigarette. “Long enough. You are going to clean that off.”

Asami leaned on the opposite side of the island, golden gaze not moving from Akihito’s face, and Akihito didn’t take his eyes from Asami as he drowned his food in the barbeque.

“I will clean it up when I’m done eating. I… uh, woke up ravenous,” he explained and gestured to the plate. “Would you like one?”

Years of training and self-discipline took over. Asami knew it was why he could keep a straight face while politely saying: “No, thank you.”

Akihito looked visibly relieved, which greatly amused the man. “Okay, good. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to share.”

Asami ruffled his hair. “You are little more than skin and bones. You should eat more.”

Akihito inhaled what was on the plate; about halfway through it, Asami filled the electric kettle and made tea for them both. Asami sat in the living room, sipping at his tea and smoking as Akihito cleaned up after himself. He watched with amusement and concern as Akihito finished cleaning and ate an apple while he made sure everything was the way he’d found it. The boy turned off the light when everything was done (including the apple) and knelt at Asami’s feet, surprising the yakuza.

“Can I ask…” he said but trailed off, reconsidering what he was about to say. He started to stand, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”

“You ask for so little,” Asami said, wrapping his hands gently around Akihito’s face. “I will give you anything. What do you want?”

He looked up at Asami, tears welling and chin trembling. “Would you h-hold me, please?”

He didn’t answer, but picked him up, wrapping strong arms around the crying boy. Akihito pressed into Asami, needing to be touched, and even that wasn’t enough; he wanted—needed—to burrow into him and just stay there. Asami could feel the scalding tears rolling down his chest, and all the while, he rubbed Akihito’s back, holding him tightly. He cried himself out fairly quickly and felt much better for it.

“Did something happen yesterday that I should know about?” Asami asked when he got up and went to the washroom to blow his nose.

“Yesterday?” he asked, poking his head around the door.

“Yes. It’s after four in the morning.”

“Uh… no. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Why?”

Silence.

“Would you humor me?” Asami asked. Akihito came out of the washroom appearing as if the last fifteen minutes hadn’t happened.

“Humor you? Don’t I always?” he replied with a half-smile.

“Touche,” Asami said, smirking. “However, this time it’s nothing terribly strange or abnormal.”

“Yeah, I’ll humor you. What do you want me to do?”

“Open the drawer of my nightstand, and you’ll see.”

Akihito was up and moving toward the bedroom. “How will I know what it is?”

“It’s the only thing in there right now.” Wait for it… three… two… one…

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Come on, Takaba. Humor me.” Asami heard grumbling and chuckled softly to himself.

“Grrr, alright.”

Less than five minutes later, Akihito exited the private washroom. He was blushing furiously, and his face couldn’t settle on an emotion, vacillating from confusion to anger to outright terror. He stood in front of Asami.

“What have I ever done to you that you would do this to me? You do realize not a one of the pictures I took ever made it out of my apartment… y-you know that, right?”

Asami stood. Akihito continued.

“Wait… you do know it’s July right? Right?”

“July?” he asked, a small crease in his brow.

“Yeah, you missed April first by…” Akihito said and counted on his fingers, “about three months. I’m impressed, though. This was incredibly elaborate—“

“What did it say?”

“You know what it said, since you’re the one who set this all up. You probably own the factory, which is why it looked perfect right? I’m impressed, Asami.”

“You’re repeating yourself. And that is one of the few industries in Japan I am not tied to in any form.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, and Akihito spun around, about to go back to bed and sleep off whatever bad reaction he was having to the Unholy Trinity of Watermelon, Oyster, and Barbeque Sauce. Asami gently captured his hips and pulled him back to chest, putting his chin on his boy’s shoulder.

“Show me,” he said softly.

Knowing he wouldn’t be allowed to go to bed unless he showed Asami the damned thing, he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to him without looking. A pleased growl erupted from the broad chest he was leaning against. Asami held the positive pregnancy test in front of Akihito so they could both see the two pink lines, his other hand covering his lover’s thin abdomen protectively.

“This can’t be real. I can’t be pregnant. I’m a man for Christ’s sake,” he muttered. “Unless… I’m not a man.”

“You are pregnant, Akihito. And you are still male,” Asami said and rubbed over the boy’s bulge. “See? It’s still there.”

“I’m… pregnant,” came the panicked whisper right before his eyes rolled up into his head once more. 

Only this time, he passed out in Asami’s arms.

________________________________________________________________________________

 

He woke to warmth all around, except on his forehead, where a cold washrag lay. He cracked his eyes open and saw Asami’s liquid gold gaze fixed on him. He stretched lazily with a small smile on his face.

“Mmm, I had the strangest dream,” Akihito said but gave pause when the serious look on his face didn’t waver. “Is something wrong?”

Asami glanced to the foot of the bed, and a man bowed quickly.

“I will be in the living room, Asami-sama,” the unknown man said and shut the door as he exited.

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked, struggling to sit up. A thick forearm across his chest prevented him from getting too far.

“Calm down,” Asami soothed, “you’re fine.”

He stopped fighting and lay still, sniffing at Asami’s suddenly too close neck. All desire to oppose the man melted away, and he buried his face in that heavenly scent. If he smells this good, he must taste wonderful! Akihito’s instincts reasoned. He groaned at the first pass of his tongue over Asami’s collarbone and shoulder and was too engrossed in the taste of his mate—mate??—to react when Asami pulled away quickly. He gave him a sad, watery pout.

“You may lick but don’t bite.”

Bite?! Akihito’s mind exclaimed. He ran his tongue over his teeth self-consciously, and gasped when he felt two sharp little fangs where his canine teeth used to be.

“I’m a vampire!” he cried out and began struggling to get up again. “This isn’t going to work! I can’t drink blood!”

“You’re not a vampire,” Asami stated, putting more weight on him to keep him from getting up. There was that really nice smell again… Akihito nuzzled into the warm skin, not wanting to move any longer.

“You smell good all of the time,” he mused, “but why do you smell so much better right now?”

“We need to have a conversation, Akihito, and you need to remain calm.”

“I am calm,” he snapped.

Asami gave him a disbelieving look but let him sit up anyway.

“You are human, but a different kind of human called a madararui. And you, specifically, are something called a retrograde: somewhere in your lineage is a madararui, but both of your parents are common types. Basically, a very rare recessive gene manifested itself in you. Am I making sense?”

“Yeah, but why didn’t I know about this sooner? Don’t maharajah—“

“Madararui.”

“Whatever,” Akihito said, scowling. “Don’t they know? Or is it one big crap shoot whether or not you figure it out?”

Asami sighed. “It usually manifests in mid-to-late adolescence, around sixteen.”

“But… but I’m twenty-three. Why didn’t it manifest in me then?”

Because I prevented it from completely manifesting in you, was Asami’s silent answer. However, Akihito didn’t need to know that just yet. The kid was going to be too busy here in a few minutes with other more pressing issues, such as going through his madararui “adolescence” so to speak.

Asami watched him flounder around in his confusion, the intense stare of a predator sizing up prey. In spite of the weirdness of the night, Akihito found himself getting turned on. If he were actually pregnant, would being fucked as hard as Asami preferred hurt the little spark that would become a baby? His hand instinctively covered his lower abdomen, and he swallowed a growl: he didn’t need to antagonize him. Asami may be the father, but that didn’t make him less dangerous. Or so he told himself.

“Would you like to see what your soul looks like?” Asami asked to distract him, his voice low and seductive. Akihito nodded, even though he didn’t fully understand what it meant.

“Come to me, then.”

Akihito crawled out from under the covers and stalked to Asami on hands and knees, unconsciously exuding sexuality. He crawled onto Asami’s lap, settling himself comfortably and was whisked into the living room. They sat in a chair and the other man (a doctor, by trade) examined his left arm as Asami held both by his wrists.

“I can take it out right now, Asami-sama, but I can’t promise a pain-free experience.”

“Do it.”

“Wait!” Akihito cried, tugging at the man’s grip. “That’s the arm I broke when I was… younger.”

He stilled. “It was the morning I turned sixteen.”

The doctor cleaned a patch of skin, swabbed it with lidocaine, and, much to Akihito’s horror, pulled out a scalpel. He thrashed in Asami’s arms, until that divine scent caressed his sinuses again, and all of the fight left him, his body going limp.

“Don’t watch. It’ll be over in a minute,” he heard Asami whisper. “It needed to come out after so long.”

What needed to come out, you bastard? he thought as hard as he could at his captor, hoping one of his special skills was telepathy. As if in a fog, he heard the doctor retrieve whatever was lodged in his forearm, and he was going to raise his head, but Asami’s large hand kept his face firmly away from the scene.

“Not yet. He’s bandaging it so you don’t have to see it.”

“See what?” he asked in a small voice.

“There,” the doctor said, packing up his implements, “he’s done. A minute or two is all it should take, Asami-sama.”

“Thank you.”

The door opened, shut, and the two were alone again.

“What did he mean?” Akihito was compelled to ask, even though he was sure he didn’t want to hear the answer.

“The doctor took out what prevented you from seeing yourself and other madararui as we really are.”

“Hmm,” he breathed absently as what he’d been saying fell by the wayside, the attractive male before him taking precedence.

The desire to mate began to rise in his stomach, and the gentle touches were soon not enough to satisfy. The sudden surging tide of arousal crashed over him and swept him away. The rolling waves hit him and dragged him under, with deep, nearly painful kisses and an inability to get close enough to Asami’s warmth. He rubbed against Asami’s bare chest, ran his cheek over the chiseled shoulder. He leaned up, intending to seal his lips to Asami’s once more, and his jaw dropped. Perched on top of the man’s head were two rounded, inky black ears, and a long, thick black tail waving hypnotically. The expressive appendage conveyed a single-minded interest in him.

He started when Asami spoke: “You are beginning to see.”

Aki flinched when Asami lifted his hand to touched one of the large tawny and black ears protruding from his own head.

“It looks like you’re a Savannah, judging by your ears,” Asami said, gently scratching the delicate furred skin.

“A what?” he whispered.

“Savannahs are a cross between Servals and domestic cats.”

“I’m a cat?” he asked, shocked. “Do I have a tail too?”

Asami reached around him and tugged gently on his newly acquired tail, causing him to arch in pleasure. “Do you want to see?”

“Yes,” Akihito said, eyes shining. He clutched at Asami when the man picked him up again and carried him into the bedroom, to stand in front of the full-length mirror. When it was proved he too nervous to actually look, he turned around so the boy was forced to view his ears.

The gasp and soft purr pleased him. “What do you think?”

Akihito rubbed his cheek against Asami’s, then pressed his nose against the other man’s: “I think you have some explaining to do.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Okay,” Asami muttered against his temple, “we’ll play this game your way. I’ll explain… after you describe exactly what you want me to do to you.”

“I-I uhh… ohhhhh,” he sputtered, blushing hotly.

“So what would you have me do?”

Before Akihito could process his all-consuming arousal, his world erupted into a ball of spotted fur and long, lanky legs tipped with sharp claws. Asami held the Savannah cat close, stroking the silky fur.

“Welcome home, my little retrograde.”

________________________________________________________________________________

It took the rest of the morning and a better part of the afternoon to learn how not to slip into his soul’s appearance. He was still shaky with holding his humanoid form, but it was getting easier. The real test was in progress…

Asami’s fingers stretched his ass, sliding in and out with Akihito’s tawny tail curled around his arm, as if it could force him to move faster. He was panting on hands and knees on the bed, shuddering and groaning with each hard thrust.

“Focus!” Asami growled when he saw Akihito losing concentration to the sensation he was causing. The Savannah hybrid gave a cheeky smirk over his shoulder at the bigger male.

“I’m fine,” he panted, then groaned as Asami hit a particularly purr-inducing spot. “Ooohhh… better than fine.”

Asami pulled out and Akihito whined—an odd sound coming out of feline vocal chords.

“Patience,” he chuckled. “I’m going to give you something more.”

With a great deal of lube, he slid into Akihito’s welcoming heat without causing a twinge of pain in the smaller male. The cries and whimpers from under him were desperate pleas for him to move and not stay still any longer. Akihito attempted to impale himself on the engorged cock, needing the friction to calm the inferno, but Asami began licking the nape of his neck. He could barely move with the warm, wet tongue hypnotizing him, and his hips rose when Asami bit his neck, trapping the sensitive flesh between sharp teeth. He yelped in surprise as Asami began thrusting into him hard, filling him so thoroughly he was left gasping.

Akihito came, his body gripping Asami tightly as he also spilled, filling his lover. Asami’s weight pressed comfortably down on him.

“Will doing this um…” Akihito began, blushing a deep shade of red, “hurt the baby?”

“Not at all, little mother,” he said gently and rolled onto his side, bringing his lover with him.

Akihito could feel the spend leaking out and running over his thighs, covering him in Asami’s scent. It was a comforting smell. One that made him want to curl up against Asami and sleep without getting a shower first.

“Let me clean you up and—“

“No!” Akihito stated, and looked away, ears down, afraid of what Asami would think of him. “I… uhh…mean…”

Asami lifted his chin so the boy would look at him. “What you’re feeling is completely natural to feel. You’re pregnant and vulnerable. It’s a survival instinct for you to be covered in the scent of a male who can protect you. Come—lie down and stop worrying.”

Akihito did, pressed against Asami’s side and obscured by a thick blanket he was wrapped up in. He was dozing when Asami started to speak.

“I met your father the night before your sixteenth birthday,” he said, absently rubbing the back of Akihito’s hand. He snorted. “That man might be more nosy than you are. I caught him rifling through boxes in one of my warehouses.”

“And you didn’t kill him?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t kill everyone who crosses me,” he said, shooting him a sidelong grin. “Anyway, I was about to ask him how he would repay me, when I smelled your scent on him. At first, I thought it came from him, but it was too faint. And he’s not a madararui.”

Akihito was shocked. Asami knew of him for the last 8 years? It seemed unreal. “Wait a second… you asked for me as payment?”

“I did,” he said, unapologetically. “I didn’t know if the returner to ancestry—you—were his child or his mate or maybe someone totally unrelated, but I was willing to take that chance. And it paid off.”

“So what was that thing in my arm?” Akihito growled, ears popping up out of his hair in agitation.

“That was a microchip one of my companies developed almost fifteen years ago. It prevents a returner to ancestry from going through his or her madararui puberty, so to speak. It was made to be a protection for madararui adolescents and help prevent premature claimings,” Asami said, stroking Akihito’s kitty ears. “Because a sixteen year old’s body may be ready to carry offspring, but they’re not mentally or emotionally ready for that responsibility.”

Akihito’s ears flattened. “How selfless of you to fund such a project.”

Asami chose to ignore the boy’s sarcasm.

Akihito crawled out from under the blanket, his tail lashing back and forth, Asami’s seed dribbling down the insides of his legs. He stood in front of the window, a scowl on his delicate face, hazel eyes blazing, and Asami was convinced he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

His.

“I need to understand how I got pregnant without…” Akihito began, but whipped around quickly when the fine hairs on his body rose. He froze at the sight of the large black panther stalking him slowly across the bed, rounded ears perked and tail moving like a snake. The golden eyes burned through him, and he knew he was in deep shit.

Asami lunged.

“AHHH—MRROWW!!!”

Akihito’s scream turned into a cat yowl when his soul’s appearance exploded from his body. His paws didn’t have a chance to touch the floor as he was gently snatched up by Asami’s powerful jaws, and the panther hopped back up on the bed. The Savannah didn’t move when he was spat out onto the cover, afraid he would trigger the predatory instincts of the big cat. But he was shocked when the large, rough tongue was dragged over his back. He was tense until the tongue continued to lave, grooming him, and he gave in to the pleasant sensation.

It took him a moment to realize he was back in his humanoid form, and the panther was cleaning his legs off, slowly working his way up his body. His tail was nudged aside by the unbelievably large nose—the damned tail complied!—and the tongue was licking up his ass crack, cleaning him off.

“Asami—ACK!“ he said, trying to sit up but getting cut off by a huge paw (with really sharp claws) on his back holding him down.

He lay still, the tongue in his ass not so much physically uncomfortable as psychologically uncomfortable: he was getting hard from a black panther licking his ass. Nevermind that said panther was his lover… that wasn’t the point.

“Asami,” he tried again, struggling to get out from under the paw, “stop it! This is too weird for me!”

One more lick and Akihito snapped. “We both know you’re a pervert but this goes beyond what I’m going to do with you! Change back so we can finish our conversation!”

Reluctantly, the paw moved after one final pass, and Akihito sat up to find himself face to face with startlingly intelligent animal eyes. He reached out to touch the shiny fur, but withdrew, only to have Asami place his head under Akihito’s hand with a whuff. He buried his fingers in the inky black fur, amazed at how soft the cat’s pelt was. The panther rolled over onto his (definitely male) back with the large head in Akihito’s lap, and he continued stroking the cat.

“Are you going to explain how I got pregnant?” Akihito finally asked. The panther actually sighed, and almost immediately, Asami was lying where the cat was.

“I don’t think I’m going to get used to that,” he commented, running his fingers through Asami’s hair.

“You do,” Asami said, not opening his eyes. “Alright. Male pregnancy can happen because of a parasite developed that can create female reproductive organs. It gets inserted into a man and makes a temporary uterus.”

Akihito’s hands stopped moving, and Asami opened his eyes to see the young man on the road to a panic attack.

“Are you the one who inserted that into me?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me to have your child—wait, okay that does sound crazy, but why didn’t you talk to me about it first?” he asked, his voice perilously close to whining.

With a small smile, Asami ran his fingers over Akihito’s face. “I’ve seen the way you look at families with young children when we’re out together. I can clearly see the desire for that in your heart.”

He sat up and took Akihito’s face in his hands. “But I didn’t want to get your hopes up, either, unless it worked. Listen, I know it’s going to be an adjustment, but would you make this adjustment with me? Please?”

Akihito was stunned. Asami politely asking him to have a family together? Who would have thought that day would come? It took a moment for him to compile an answer since his head was reeling.

“Yes,” he stated. “Yes, I will be more than happy to have this baby with you… on one condition.”

Akihito knew he had Asami’s full attention. “The next time (and I just know there’s going to be a next time) you want to impregnate me, ask first.”

“I promise we’ll discuss it first,” Asami said solemnly.

Akihito gave him a long, hard look, trying to find the catch in their agreement and not finding one. For now, it would seem he could trust Asami to respect him and his body.

“Thank you,” he said, getting up. “I need a shower.”

He pulled out clothes to wear after the shower and nearly jumped out of his skin when Asami’s tail made a final pass through his ass crack, causing him to yelp (and get turned on).

He slammed the door to the bathroom and locked it with a loud “PERVERT!” coming through loud and clear.

_______________________________________________________________________________

7 months later

One in the morning and Akihito couldn’t get comfortable. The baby made her presence known five or six weeks prior, and the kid continued to grow. His abdomen was distended, every muscle in his body ached, and he would be more than thankful to have the Caesarian when his body indicated it was time. He moved again, onto his side this time, and smiled at Asami’s sleeping form.

He reached out to touch the hand closest to him and gasped softly when Asami grasped his own. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Akihito replied, squeezing the warm hand. “I’m just uncomfortable tonight.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Convince her to come out soon.”

“You mean, convince my son—“

“No, silly man, you have a daughter,” Akihito laughed. “And, no, there’s nothing left but the waiting.”

He stroked through Asami’s mussed up hair. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be fine.”

He received a half-asleep grunt before pulling away carefully and getting out of bed. He pulled on his silky blue robe and padded silently into the living room so he wouldn’t wake Asami again with his restlessness. He fixed himself a cup of tea and sat in the dark, looking out over the rainbow of color that was Tokyo. When his body began to protest beyond what he could ignore, he slowly paced, hoping the spasms would stop so he could get to sleep as well. However, he got concerned when the twinges became shards of pain he had to stop moving to breathe through. Akihito leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the floor to ceiling window, determined to give Asami as much time to rest as he could manage.

The sun was rising when the first really painful contraction hit, sending him to his knees panting. He bit his cheeks to keep from crying out and waking Asami, but he couldn’t prevent the soft whimper. Akihito heard Asami’s approach, and he was pulled up into an embrace.

“Why didn’t you come and get me?” Asami asked, massaging his lower back. How did Asami know right where it hurt, and what to do to make it ease up?

“You needed to sleep.”

“I function on much less sleep than that,” he chided, ripping a grunt from the young man. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Please no! Oh god, no! Relieving… some pressure,” Akihito groaned. He could feel a contraction starting, and he held on to Asami tightly.

“You’re not breathing,” the older man said. “If you breathe through the contraction, it will help somewhat.”

“Can we… can we go now? I don’t want to do this anymore,” he whined.

“Suoh is bringing the car around—“

“DON’T LEAVE ME!”

“I’m not,” he murmured, “I’m not.”

Suoh opened the door to the condo in record time, Akihito noting (even through the pain) that the man’s rounded grizzly bear ears were protruding from his head in distress. Early in the pregnancy, Akihito discovered the man hadn’t ever been around a pregnant person before, much less children; quite the opposite of Kirishima who, being the eldest of six children, was calmly holding the car door open and his undocked Doberman tail waved behind him.

“Has Aogiri Sensei been contacted?”

“Yes, Asami-sama,” Kirishima replied and shut the door when they got in.

Akihito rode another contraction to its end, and when he could think again, he poked Asami in the chest, crying out: “You! You did this to me!”

He crawled awkwardly onto Asami’s lap, whimpering as another contraction began to build.

“NO MORE BABIES! NO MORE!” Akihito bellowed as it eased off again. 

Thus the rest of the ride to the hospital went, with Akihito alternating between clinging to him and threatening castration with a dull, plastic spork.

Asami, wisely, kept his mouth (and legs) shut.

________________________________________________________________________________

They walked into the hospital and Aogiri Sensei met them at the front desk. Akihito leaned heavily on Asami as they were escorted to the room he would be prepared for surgery in. Halfway down the hall, Akihito stopped suddenly with a strange look on his face; not a heartbeat after, he felt something release in his abdomen and fluid gushed onto the floor. Akihito felt the blood rush from his head.

“You’re alright and so is the baby,” Asami said, getting the young man to look at him. “The amniotic sac burst.”

Akihito nodded hesitantly and held onto him more tightly.

“Come,” Aogiri stated, “you are progressing quickly. We need to get you in the O.R. now.”

“Is progressing like this bad?” Akihito asked, hobbling along with Asami’s help.

“It’s not bad,” the doctor replied, amused. “It just means your child is anxious to be born and we need to be ready.”

Hiromasa got the young man prepped. He was lying down when the doctor asked: “Would you like to be awake for the procedure, Takaba-kun?”

Akihito turned green at the thought of being awake and cut open. Sure, there would be a curtain-like set up blocking his view of his stomach, but it was more the idea of being cut open at all. He shook his head jerkily.

“Okay,” Aogiri said and administered the anesthesia. “Good night.”

Asami had no problem with the sight or smell of blood. But since it was his mate who was bleeding, his stomach was churning. As he watched, it felt like it was taking too long. However, he watched the doctor with a highly critical eye and Aogiri wasn’t flustered. So he waited. And not too long after they entered the room, a small black wet bundle was lifted from out of Akihito. Asami wasn’t able to see the child very well since one of the nurses took it and was cleaning it off.

Asami’s world shifted when the cub’s mouth was suctioned and a tiny mewl rang out.

________________________________________________________________________________

Akihito woke slowly, and the first thing he was aware of was pain. He groaned and within seconds of the noise, the pain started fading. He opened his eyes to the most amazing sight he’d ever seen: Asami sitting next to his bed holding their cub with a look of awe and rapture. The softening of the yakuza’s face took ten years off, making him appear younger.

“Welcome back,” Asami whispered, not taking his eyes off of the baby in his hands.

“Did anything go wrong?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“Everything is fine.” He stood up, leaned over him, and gently placed kisses from Akihito’s forehead to his lips.

Asami held his gaze with liquid gold. “Thank you, Akihito, for giving me such a precious gift.”

________________________________________________________________________________

2 years later

“Aiko! It’s beautiful!” Akihito said, taking the drawing the two-year-old little girl handed him.

“Daddy,” she said, pointing at it.

“I think that’s a great idea,” he said, slipping it under the plate at Asami’s place at the head of the table. “We’ll put it here, and he’ll get it when he comes home.”

Akihito checked the clock again, anxious for his mate to return from work this night. Usually, Asami worked late, but tonight they had a date, at Akihito’s request. He mentally went through his checklist again: Aiko fed, dinner made, Kirishima notified… a knock interrupted his thought, and the high-pitched squeal of his daughter heralded Kirishima’s arrival. The deep amber eyes lit up with joy as Aiko ran to the door. Akihito smiled at his little girl, with her inky black hair and face so similar to his own with its delicate structure, and her undying devotion to her “Uncle” Kirishima.

Akihito opened the door and Aiko propelled herself into the Doberman’s waiting arms. Kirishima glanced at Akihito.

“Enjoy your night off, Aki-kun, and don’t worry, she’ll be fine.”

“Thank you Kirishima-san,” he replied. “I don’t worry when she’s with you.”

After seeing the two off, Akihito put the finishing touches on the evening, and when Asami walked in the door, he greeted his mate with a deep kiss. “Welcome home.”

“What’s this?” Asami asked, glancing at the table set for two.

“I thought we could spend a little time together… alone.”

“Alone, hm?” he asked. “Aiko?”

“With Kirishima,” Akihito said, placing soft kisses down Asami’s chin. Asami took off his jacket, usually waiting until he was in the bedroom so Aiko wouldn’t see the guns at his side.

“We need to have dinner first,” Akihito said when Asami tried to unbutton Akihito’s shirt.

Asami sat down at the table, curiosity eating him alive at this point, trying to figure out why Akihito went through such elaborate preparation. But he would play the boy’s game, since the games they played were always fun and exciting. As they ate, Asami noticed the paper Akihito had slipped under it, and he pulled it out. Aiko had drawn a family portrait of four—one obviously Kirishima. But what caught his eye was how she’d drawn Akihito’s stomach as a circle.

He held it up for Akihito to see.

“She’s quite the little artist, isn’t she?” his younger mate asked with a half-smile.

“She is indeed. But she’ll need to learn how to draw proportionately, if she wants to do anything with it,” Asami commented and pointed to the Akihito on the paper. “You’re not round.”

Their eyes met across the table.

“Not yet.”

Asami got up and knelt in front of Akihito, laying his head against the still-flat abdomen. He ran his hands through the silky black hair, inordinately pleased with how his big reveal was received.

Asami chuckled. “Does this mean I need to invest in canned oyster and watermelon stock?”

“Not at all,” Akihito laughed. “This time, it’s green olive juice and chocolate cake.”

終わり  
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End file.
